


all our times have come

by ohallows



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (the major character death is just bc it’s the afterlife it’s not sad really), Afterlife, Canon Compliant, Fix-It of Sorts, Found Family, Gen, Post-Canon, Reunited and It Feels So Good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:54:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21681778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohallows/pseuds/ohallows
Summary: Sasha wakes up in a pile of leaves as the moon shines brightly overhead. It filters through the branches above, casting dappled light all around her. She’s in a clearing, she realizes as she wakes up, and glances around, confused. The last thing she remembers is falling asleep as Maximus had held her hand with tears in his eyes; he was fully grown now, an adult who’d almost even surpassed Sasha’s own skill, although she’d never admit it to him aloud. She’s a bit confused about where she is for a moment, immediately suspicious as she tries to remember how she could have ended up in this glade that looks nothing like Rome.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 122





	all our times have come

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i have no idea how the afterlife really works in pathfinder and also i don’t really care [alex voice] my world my rules!
> 
> chat w me on tumblr abt this podcast i’m always crying @connerkcnt

Sasha wakes up in a pile of leaves as the moon shines brightly overhead. It filters through the branches above, casting dappled light all around her. She’s in a clearing, she realizes as she wakes up, and glances around, confused. The last thing she remembers is falling asleep as Maximus had held her hand with tears in his eyes; he was fully grown now, an adult who’d almost even surpassed Sasha’s own skill, although she’d never admit it to him aloud. She’s a bit confused about where she is for a moment, immediately suspicious as she tries to remember how she could have ended up in this glade that looks nothing like Rome.

There’s a soft melody playing through the air, and just as Sasha thinks about it a dagger appears at her side - one of her nineteen favorites, one that had broken a few years back on a stone wall as she was making a quick getaway. 

That’s not. Normal. She holds the dagger close to her eyes and something else catches her gaze. She’s young again, it seems; all the scars and wrinkles have been brushed away from her skin, what bits of it she can see, and as she brings her hands up she can feel her hair, longer and thicker than it’s been in years, even with how short it is. 

Oh. This is either a dream, or she’s dead. That must be it. She stands up slowly, on legs that don’t ache with age, and feels better than she has in years. Even at her age she was spry, but her joints had just begun to ominously creak when she’d been holding a position for too long. Hadn’t helped her sneaking around. 

That doesn’t seem to be an issue now; she presses a hand against her chest and doesn’t feel the tell-tale mark of her autopsy scar from back when they struggled against Mr. Ceiling, when Zolf saved her. It’s - hm. She isn’t sure how she feels about the scars being gone. It’s not about vanity, not about anything except losing the stories behind the scars. 

As though the thought is all it takes, the scars fade back into being, although the wrinkles and aches are still gone. It feels better to her, more natural, and she doesn’t feel a need to hide the smile she gets as she traces over some of them with a finger. 

“Sasha!” she hears, a voice she hasn’t heard in decades, and she can’t be blamed for how quickly she spins around. She doesn’t have time to see much before a solid weight collides into her, knocking her backward as she falls back into the pile of leaves. “How - when - how long’s it been? Gods, I’m so glad to see you, so -“

She tunes out Grizzop’s chattering and just hugs him back, not even trying to hide the tears as they fall steadily down her cheeks. Grizzop is crying too, tears soaking into her shirt as his wiry arms wrap around her waist. 

“You idiot,” she tries to snap, but there’s no real anger in her voice even as she slaps him gently on the back. “You sacrificed yourself for me.”

Grizzop pulls back and gets the same stubborn, mulish look on his face that she’d grown used to as he sets his jaw. “Obviously.”

They both stand up, and Sasha has to push back against all the images of Grizzop, bloodied and impaled, rising to the front of her mind. He looks, well. Alive. He’s got all the scars still, as well, maybe a few less than Sasha remembers, but he looks much the same to her. 

“Where are we?” Sasha asks, looking around the clearing again, and the night sky has changed. The moon is still there, an ever-present warm glow in the sky, a bit closer than it should be, maybe, but unchanging. The stars around it are different, new constellations stretching across the sky.

“Afterlife,” Grizzop says, and Sasha recognizes the longbow and quiver of arrows stretched across his back. “Artemis’ realm.”

The moon, the stars, the trees growing around them… yeah, Sasha thinks, that tracks. What that doesn’t answer is why  _ she’s _ here, of all people. 

“How come Artemis brought me here? I never really… like, I believed in the gods, kind of hard to  _ not _ when you’ve basically met one of them in a storm, but. I’ve never been particularly religious,” Sasha says, trying not to tense as though she’s waiting for a tug in her stomach to pull her away.

Grizzop just shrugs. “Don’t have a good answer for you, mate. Maybe she felt a kinship with you, maybe it’s through your connection to me… who knows.” It’s not incredibly comforting, but she supposes he’s right. 

“So, what do we do next?” Sasha asks, and Grizzop gives her a smile, stretching across his face from ear-to-ear as bares sharp teeth. 

“Fancy a hunt?”

—

Time works... strangely, in the realm of Artemis. The moon is always overhead, and although the darkness obscure vision, it’s never daytime. Sasha is comfortable here; there’s no shortage of shadows to hide in, and the trees provide her the same feeling of claustrophobia that Other London had, a comfort that she hadn’t realised she’d missed.

So, they don’t know how much time has passed when they find a mirror in the middle of the forest. No, no, that’s not  _ right _ , it’s not a mirror, it’s a pool. Reflective and ever changing, images blurring across the top until it settles on people Sasha recognizes, and she can’t help but sink to her knees at the edge of the pool as Hamid and Azu are reflected back at her. 

She’s mirroring Hamid’s pose, she realises, and with a gasp Grizzop is at her side, pointing a shaking hand at the vision in front of them. “Artemis,  _ what?”  _ he breathes, and there are tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as he looks over at Sasha. “What is this?”

She doesn’t know. But Azu looks shocked, hands over her mouth while Hamid is on his knees with his mouth open in a soundless scream, and she knows, somehow, intimately, that they just realised that Grizzop and her are missing. 

It’s hard to watch, if she’s honest. Hard to watch the way Azu’s face shutters, hard to watch the pain and the regret and the guilt pull at their shoulders; weighing them down. 

Grizzop and her watch together, soundlessly, and everything looks so real that Sasha almost thinks she could reach out and touch the image. She doesn’t, not wanting to disturb the water, but the image eventually fades on its own, leaving them staring at nothing but a pool of dark blue. 

She doesn’t know how long they’ve been kneeling by the edge of the pool by the time the image fades. Grizzop turns and looks at her, and there are tear tracks on his cheeks, something she’s sure is mirrored on her own face. Neither of them speak for a while, a silent agreement, and then they both rise and back away from the pool. The images don’t return, and Sasha takes the opportunity to glance around the glade, doing her best to memorize what it looks like. 

“What was that?” Grizzop breaks the silence, hoarse, and Sasha just shakes her head. 

“I don’t know,” she says, frowning down at it even as her chest shudders in pain, and Grizzop stares up at the sky, asking a wordless question of a god who may never answer. 

It may be a gift. Sasha doesn’t think it’s a curse, being able to see that her friends are okay, even if Grizzop seems a little suspicious of it at first. It may just be the whims of a capricious god, although Sasha’s never really seen Artemis as the type. Whatever it is, it’s there, and they can see their friends through it, and no amount of theorizing or questioning or (in Grizzop’s case) prayers and requests for explanation change that. 

They don’t go back to the pool for a few days (or what Sasha considers days to be, now that they don’t particularly need to sleep; for one, they can’t find it the first time they look for it, and for the second, Grizzop goes off on a hunt to get rid of some of his energy and Sasha decides to tag along). 

When they finally do go back, there’s another familiar face in the vision of the pool, and Sasha feels her throat close up when she recognises Zolf. Grizzop doesn’t, asking who the bloke in the beard is, and Sasha can’t even reply, just staring at him. 

Zolf had been the first person she  _ really _ trusted after she’d lost Brock. The first person she would ever consider to be part of her family again, although Hamid and Azu and Grizzop and even, strangely enough, Wilde, had joined that incredibly small circle of trust by the time… well. Rome happened. Seeing him there… Sasha has practice with lip-reading, yeah, she knows when someone is saying her name, and the way Zolf’s face hardens after he asks after her and Hamid just completely shuts down makes her chest feel concave. 

“That’s Zolf,” she finally says, voice curt, and Grizzop makes a small sound of understanding.

“He’s the one who left, yeah?” he asks, and Sasha nods, barely. She hadn’t expected to see him again, ever, not after the way he left. He looks good as well; the guilt and loss that had weighed down his shoulders seems to be gone, and his eyes are clearer that they’ve ever been.

The week passes with Hamid and Azu in the cell, and Sasha spends more time by the pool than normal. Zolf hugs Hamid at the end of it, and the relief on his face is palpable, even through the water.

She wraps her arms around herself when they hug, reminded of the single hug they shared in Paris, after the truth about Bertie came out. Zolf lets go and Sasha has to look away, feeling cold all of a sudden.

“Sasha?” Grizzop asks quietly from behind her, and she turns to look at him. “Mind?” 

She shakes her head and Grizzop crowds a bit closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pressing his forehead between her shoulder blades. 

They sit like that for a while as Sasha remembers how to breathe.

—

When the kobolds come into play, Grizzop starts vibrating at Sasha’s side. 

“Hamid’s doing something stupid,” Grizzop says suddenly, looking left and right. “I don’t know what. But he’s doing something dumb.”

Sasha hides the sigh she wants to make and insteads stands, following Grizzop over to the pool. This isn’t an unusual proclamation; she swears Grizzop has a sixth sense for knowing when Hamid makes a decision he disagrees with, and he seems to have this obsession with yelling about it to everyone who’ll listen, which singularly includes Sasha, even when she doesn’t want to listen. 

When Hamid fireballs the kobolds, Sasha can feel Grizzop flinch at her side. Something roils in her stomach, but she also understands why he did it. She can see the syringes they carry, can see the liquid inside them, and she knows it’s not something as simple as a potion that knocks people out. 

She doesn’t like it, but she doesn’t know what else they could have done. It’s a little worrying, seeing how pragmatic Hamid seems to have become, and how much none of the others seem to notice. She catches the look on his face, the regret and the pain and the guilt as he closes his eyes when the fireball hits. It smooths out into a careful blank expression when he goes back up the stairs to face the rest.

“Remind me to hit Hamid if he ever shows up here again,” Grizzop says, darkly, and Sasha chews on her lip. She can’t completely condemn Hamid for the act, similarly to how Zolf can’t, but that doesn’t mean she has to like it. Grizzop’s clearly displeased, but when isn’t he, when Hamid is involved? 

All they can do is judge; but really, what right does Sasha have to that? Her past is just as if not more checkered than the rest of them. It’s not her place. 

—

They are but silent watchers, the two of them; well, silent to everyone on the outside, but Grizzop is constantly railing and ranting (usually at Hamid, although Zolf and Cel get some of his ire and frustration as well). Sasha usually doesn’t join in, content to just watch. Nothing they say will change anything, no matter what they try, something Sasha learned a long time ago. 

Once, Grizzop attempts to go into the pool, wondering what would happen; nothing does, apart from the image dissipating. It’s expected, really, because Sasha didn’t really think they’d get another chance, but it’s still… hard to realize. 

The pool tugs at them sometimes, just a feeling in their hearts that pulls them both toward it, and they follow along whenever the feeling comes. Sometimes it’s nothing, just a slightly shaky image of their friends laying on the ground together as one silently keeps watch, hand on their weapon. Sometimes it’s a battle, and they have to watch with their heart pounding in their chests as enemies swarm. Sometimes it’s peaceful, but there’s always a piece of Sasha that wishes she could be there; Grizzop has the same restless energy, muttering under his breath as they watch. 

Sometimes, the image disappears to be replaced by a clear surface, and that’s when Grizzop and Sasha leave, not looking back until the next time they feel the pull.

They can’t affect anything. Can’t change anything, but that doesn’t stop Grizzop from trying. Sasha can hear him praying to Artemis sometimes, to warn them about a danger, to warn them about  _ anything _ , but it doesn’t help. They fight off the infection, they fight off the mind-controlled kobolds, they fight off a  _ god _ … and in the end, they win. There are close calls all the way until the end, and confessions and arguments and fights and making up and decisions and it’s just like it’s always been, only this time Sasha is watching from the outside as the world moves forward. And they win. The virus is defeated, the world goes back to normal, the meritocrats no longer hold the power, and its a  _ happier _ world. A better world for what it went through. 

The world is saved, and Sasha watches as Hamid, Azu, Zolf, and the new one, the half-elf, all go back to a room and collapse in a pile together, too tired to move and just relieved that they’re all still alive. Sasha lies down next to the pool and watches, with Grizzop ever-present at her side, and pretends she’s there too. 

After the world is saved, after everyone has done their job and done it well, they stop watching as much. Sure, they’ll check in on their old friends sometimes, but now it feels more like an intrusion. With how much the meritocracy ended up shelling out, none of them need to adventure for a living, and Sasha’s content knowing that they’re safe. 

—

Azu is the first to join them in their space between the planes. She appears in a puff of mist, glowing as pink as they remember. She’s been given youth again as well, and two whole tusks that stretch up over her upper lip as she beams at both of them before rushing over and grabbing them in a hug. There are tears of joy slipping down her face, and Sasha can’t help but cling back just as tightly, Grizzop hanging off both of their shoulders as he’s lifted off the ground. They stand there together for a moment, just relaxing in each other’s presence. 

“What happened to you two?” she asks finally, pulling back but not letting go of either of them. 

“Rome,” Sasha says simply, and Azu’s brow furrows in confusion as she looks between them. She clarifies. “Ancient.”

“You - sorry?” Azu asks, still looking confused, and Sasha nods. 

“Went back to Ancient Rome. Didn’t go well.” She still doesn’t… like talking about it. Doesn’t like thinking about Grizzop breaking in front of her, impaled in six different areas. Even though things had ended up alright for her in the end, it’s not  _ easy _ for her to remember how much everything  _ hurt _ back then.

Thankfully, Azu picks up on this, and doesn’t ask more, although there’s enough inquisition in her eyes that Sasha knows she’ll have to answer sooner or later. Not because Azu expects it of her, not at all; just because Azu deserves to hear it. Deserves to know what happened after Grizzop’s hand slipped out of hers, after they both were lost to time. 

But that’s a story for another day. Instead, they show Azu the pool and the image atop the water changes as she gets closer, and Sasha recognizes Zolf, Hamid, and the half-elf they’d saved the world with. The image stays there for a moment, before shifting to an orc elder with a shock of pure white hair as he stares ahead, kneeling on the ground. “Emeka,” she breathes, and then she’s kneeling as well, leaning down to press her forehead to the water below. The image shifts and distorts but doesn’t disappear, and Azu straightens up to reveal a strangely dry forehead. There are tears in the corners of her eyes as she nods, and whispers a quiet, “Thank you,” to the pool below. 

They relax by the pool, that night. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Azu,” Sasha whispers, leaning a bit closer to her as Grizzop crowds in close on the other side. It reminds her of some of the coldest nights in Rome, of curling up between some of the people she trusted the most. 

“I am as well, Sasha,” Azu says, looking over at her with eyes that twinkle in the moonlight. They all rest together, and it’s so comfortable it feels like no time has passed at all.

—

Hamid arrives next. He looks older than they remember and, if Sasha were to put a point on it, more, well. Dragon-y. His cheeks are sharper, his teeth a little more elongated, and when he smiles, there’s a sharp edge to it that wasn’t there before. They’d seen him transform before, completely in Prague and partially in Cairo, but this looks more natural. More suited to him, almost as though he’s grown nicely into his second skin. 

He starts crying when he sees them, shaking hands held over his mouth as he glances between them, almost like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. 

“What…” he says, trailing off. “How -“

Both of them move to him when it seems that he can’t, standing there shell-shocked. Sasha pulls him into a hug first, and he hesitantly wraps his arms around her waist as though she could disappear at any moment. As the clock ticks and she stays right where she is, Hamid begins to tremble against her. 

“I’m so sorry,” he nearly sobs into Sasha’s coat, and she awkwardly pats him on the head as he goes to pieces in front of her. “Going to Rome was my idea, I know neither of you wanted to go, I -“

“S’alright, Hamid,” Sasha says, soft, and Hamid just cries a little bit harder as he clings onto her. 

“I - I was,” he hiccoughs, “I was trying to find you both for so  _ long,  _ I thought - thought  _ maybe-“ _

“Hey, Hamid,” Sasha says, pulling back and giving him a smile. “You did.” 

He gives her a watery smile back, tears still flowing, and then turns to look at Grizzop. who bops him on the head once before pulling him into a tight hug. Hamid looks almost surprised as Grizzop hugs him, but hugs him back eventually. A few more tears are shed (mostly by Hamid, although Sasha’s sure she can see some fall from Grizzop’s eyes as well) and then Grizzop pulls back. 

“Now,” Grizzop asks, folding his arms and giving Hamid a dark stare as Hamid takes a slight step back. “What was going on with those kobolds?”

Hamid gives an almost nervous laugh at that, eyes darting from side-to-side. “How did - er, what kobolds? It’s been a while, you see, and I’m not completely certain what you’re talking about, I’m afraid!” He laughs again, too high to be natural, and Grizzop just narrows his eyes.

“Hamid,” is all he needs to say, a slightly disapproving raise of the eyebrows, before Hamid sighs, full of regret.

“I’m - it wasn’t my proudest moment,” Hamid says quietly. “I’m sorry. I tried to do better.”

Grizzop doesn’t move for a moment; sizing him up.and pulls Hamid in again, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he ruffles his hair. Hamid squeaks and squirms out from Grizzop’s grip, snapping his fingers. Immediately, his hair is perfectly coiffed again, and Grizzop is laughing now, finally, bright peals of laughter that echo around the clearing. 

Azu is the last to hug him, and they hold on to each other for a long time, whispering thanks and regrets and memories as they embrace. 

When they show Hamid the pool, the images flicker between a couple different scenes too quickly for Sasha to make out, and then slowing. She sees Saira and someone who must be her wife in one image, laughing together and looking older, then the image fades out, replaced by the twins as they stand side by side in a large office, dressed in fancy suits. Another image comes up with faces she doesn’t recognize, and then it fades again, replaced with Cel tinkering away in a workshop, and then Zolf, looking forlorn and almost lost as he stands on a bridge overlooking the sea, wrinkles barely even formed around his eyes. Hamid sinks to his knees, reaching out and touching the pool. The image distorts around his finger before reforming into the vision of Saira and cycling through the same images over and over. 

He turns to look at them with tears on his cheeks and stands on wobbly legs. “What is this?” he asks, and Sasha shakes her head. 

“A gift,” she answers, before Grizzop can, because after all these years (is it years? Can she consider them that, when time doesn’t move the same?) she can’t see it as anything else. 

—

The half-elf comes third. Sasha’s never met them before, and shares a confused look with Grizzop as Hamid and Azu run forward to hug them. They bend down to give Hamid a tight squeeze, and then straighten up to wrap Azu in their arms, arms locked around her neck as they bury their head into her shoulder. 

“This is Cel,” Hamid introduces, and the half-elf surfaces and gives a little wave. “Cel, this is Grizzop and Sasha. We, er - we told you about them?” 

“Right, right!” they say, and come forward to give both of them a vigorous handshake. 

“Good to meet you,” Grizzop says, staring up at their tall form. “Heard you saved these two a number of times. Thanks for that.”

Cel moves on to Sasha and grips her hand a bit too tightly. “Aw, they told you stories about me? That’s adorable, what else did they say? Did they tell you about the time I blew up - well, not really blew up the lab, it was just a  _ minor _ explosion, and who can say that would have happened when you mix those two elements together? Not me, that’s for sure -“

They keep chattering on for a while, and Sasha decides she’s really going to like Cel. She has a couple of questions for them about potions and explosives, and maybe they can run some experiments together here with bombs.

A day or so later, Sasha and Grizzop show them the pool and Cel falters, slowing down for the first time since they’d arrived. A hint of hesitation they’ve never showed pulls at their feet, but they continue forward as Sasha and Grizzop lead them there. Hamid and Azu stay behind; it’s an unspoken agreement between all of them. 

As they get closer, there’s a spark of curiosity in Cel’s eyes as they look down at the pool, and then a notebook appears out of thin air, long and black, and a quill materializes as they start scribbling down what Sasha assumes are notes. Cel stays behind, sitting by the pool as a small gnome runs around laughing and playing with his friends, and there’s a faint smile on their face as they stare down into the pool. Sasha and Grizzop give them some space as they watch. 

There’s only one more of them left, Sasha realises, and this is one she’s content to wait for.

—

Zolf comes last. He takes his sweet time, as well, not that Sasha’s going to complain about it. Their visits to the pool become more and more infrequent as time passes in it’s strange ways. Hamid visits more often than the rest; sometimes Sasha accompanies him, and the images switch between the twins and Zolf as they sit there together in silence. 

When Zolf finally appears, stumbling forward out of a bunch of vines, he looks confused and  _ damp _ , and Sasha thinks that maybe he and Poseidon still don’t completely understand each other, even all these years later. He looks older too, more wrinkles around his eyes, laugh lines that had never been there before. 

He comes to a complete stop when he sees Hamid, and then his eyes flick to Sasha, and there’s such a sense of  _ wonderment _ there that Sasha feels a little choked up herself.

“What…” he says, trailing off, and then he sees Cel and Azu there as well, and his brow furrows for a moment in confusion over Grizzop before smoothing out in a tentative recognition. “What’s going on?” 

Hamid is the first over to him, barreling into him nearly at a run, and he’s crying again as he buries his head in Zolf’s shoulder, clinging tightly to his shoulders. Zolf still looks a bit shell-shocked but hugs Hamid back desperately. They separate eventually and then Zolf hugs Azu and Cel in turn; they both tower over him, but he wraps his arms tightly around their waists. 

“You took your time,” Azu says, hand still on Zolf’s shoulder as they both back away, still standing close. “Good.”

“Yeah, well,” Zolf says, glancing over at Hamid with a rueful smile. “Someone made me promise, and I’ve been trying to stop breaking those as often.” 

Azu and Cel step aside, and Hamid stays close until Zolf gives him a meaningful look, and then he steps back as well. Grizzop does nothing but give a slight wave; he recognizes Zolf from the pool, of course, and some of Hamid and Sasha’s stories, but he still doesn’t know him. Zolf’s much the same, giving Grizzop a slight incline of the head in return, and then his gaze drifts to Sasha. 

She’s gone up to him last, still standing a few feet away, and Zolf looks at her with an unreasonable amount of regret in his eyes.

“Boss,” Sasha greets, arms crossed over her chest.

“Sasha,” Zolf says in return, and there’s something so inherently familiar and comfortable about the two word exchange that Sasha feels even more at home in this place she’s made her own.

They stand there in silence for a moment before Zolf sighs and takes a step closer.

“I’m - I’m sorry I left,” Zolf says, voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to leave you in the lurch. Hamid told me what happened to you and, gods, I… I’m so  _ damned _ sorry, Sasha.”

“Zolf, it’s fine,” Sasha says, and it  _ really _ is. She’s never resented him for leaving, never thought he should have been forced to stay somewhere he was unhappy. She  _ wishes _ he’d stayed, obviously, but she’d never blame him for taking a step back when he didn’t even know which way was up. Everything with Mr. Ceiling, everything with Poseidon… she watched him break, watched the cracks slowly form, and didn’t know what to do. It’s not his fault everything became… became so much, so quickly.

“No, it - it wasn’t fair,” Zolf says, frustrated. “I had my own shite, yeah, but I should have made sure you were good before I left. Hell, even just telling you who to find for help would have been better than what I pulled. And I’m sorry for that. Never got to tell you before, so…” he trails off, looking chagrined. 

“It’s okay, Zolf,” Sasha says, and finally pulls him

into a hug, and she can  _ feel _ the tenseness bleed out of his shoulders as he hugs her back. 

“Gods, I’ve missed you all,” Zolf says, voice sounding a little thick as he looks around at all of them. There’s a sort of pride in his eyes as he does so, and a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.

“You too, boss,” Sasha says, and he looks at her and nods.

With Zolf here, everything feels complete. Feels right, again. 

When Sasha offers, Zolf doesn’t want to see the pool. Sasha gives him a quizzical look and he shrugs. “Everyone I care about is here,” he explains, and his face softens as he looks over at where everyone else is sitting and joking. “I don’t need a pool to tell me they’re safe.” 

—

It’s not the perfect solution - but it’s the afterlife, and they have an eternity to spend with each other, so it works. Hamid goes to visit his family a few months out of the year, and they all miss him while he’s gone, but Sasha could never begrudge him this. Zolf leaves as well to spend some time in Poseidon’s domain; his god, in his seemingly infinite grace (an oddity for Poseidon, really) had pulled Zolf’s family into his domain, so Zolf is able to please Poseidon and see his brother and parents at the same time. The first time he’d had to leave, he’d offered for Sasha to come along as well, and she’d taken him up on it. She and Feryn had gotten along famously, and now she tags along with him when he goes. 

Hamid comes along with them sometimes as well, meeting Zolf’s parents and brothers with a blush as he introduces himself. 

Sasha also gets the invitation to visit with Azu in Aphrodite’s realm; everything is a softer pink than she’d been expecting, with some rich gold lining the place that Sasha has to remind herself she doesn’t need to steal. She almost wants to try it, just to see if she could pull it off - old habits do die hard, she’s realised. But she doesn’t (and it definitely doesn’t get a warning glance from Azu as one of her hands is inching toward a small golden sparrow for her to stop, regardless of what Azu tells Grizzop). Everything there is warm and Azu’s smile is as bright as it can be as she walks among her fellow worshippers.

Cel disappears sometimes as well; Sasha’s never quite sure where they go, but if she had to hazard a guess, she’d say they were working their way through the different realms of the gods and figuring out how this all worked. They invite her to come with them one time, saying they’ve got someone they’d like her to meet, and she agrees, a bit confused. 

Cel takes her hand and pulls her through what feels like a veil; Sasha brushes it away as she moves, and then Cel is standing there with a proud smile on their face as they gesture at a face Sasha would never forget.

“Brock,” she whispers, and then she’s running forward to hug her cousin. He looks a bit older than he had been when he disappeared, but still young. Still… well, not  _ innocent _ , exactly, but clearly a child. She bends down and pulls him into a tight hug, and Brock hugs her back, arms wrapping around her neck as she crouches down in front of him. 

“Hey, Sash,” Brock says, and his voice cracks on her name as he buries his face into her hair. “You got old.”

She laughs at that, a little broken, and pulls back to look at him. This close, he only looks a year or so older than she remembers; he’s still got that little bit of baby fat on his cheeks, and no one would mistake him for anything older than a fifteen year old kid. He’s still scrawny, thin as ever, but his grip on her hands is strong. 

“I got older than this, mate,” she says, voice cracking a bit as well as she tries not to cry. She’s not very successful; tears start dripping down her cheeks the longer she stares at her cousin.

“I’m so sorry, Brock,” Sasha says, voice full of regret and decades-old anger at a situation she couldn’t do a damned thing about. “I should’ve done something, should’ve tried… dunno,  _ anything -“ _

“Sash, you were a kid too. A little older than me, sure, but you wouldn’t have been able to do nothin’. Not against Barrett,” he says, shaking his head. 

“I still should’ve,” she says doggedly, and Brock laughs. It’s exactly like she remembers, clear and bright, and she feels another small stab in the chest at that.

“Still as stubborn as ever,” Brock says, shoving at her shoulder a bit. “Thought you were supposed to be more mature than me?”

“Hey!” Sasha protests, laughing with him. “I’m plenty mature, Brock, should’ve seen me. I built a - well, it wasn’t a  _ school _ , not really, but I still taught kids. Brought ‘em in off the streets, and such. Gave ‘em a home.”

“That’s good,” Brock says, eyes still a bit misty. “Kids need that, yeah?” 

Sasha nods, hand unconsciously rubbing against one of the many bruises Barrett had left on her as a child. The subject changes, after that; Brock turns to her and asks about her adventures, and Sasha starts to tell the story. Talking about Mr. Ceiling is, well. Hard. Her and Brock definitely don’t get a bit teary over it. They move on from it quickly, and then Sasha’s talking about the sea and the sky and cities built in the air and deserts and Rome and Brock’s eyes are wide as he listens to the tale. 

Eventually, Cel sidles up to them as they chat, trying their best to be unobtrusive, but only seeming a bit awkward. “We have to go, Sasha, there’s a weird… time limit on these things. And Brock, well. He can’t… come with us,” Cel explains, a little regretfully, and Sasha turns damp eyes on them as they give her a sad smile. “But I’ve started to figure out how to find the connections, so you can talk to him whenever you want.”

Sasha nods, lump in her throat, and the look on Brock’s face matches how she feels.

“Don’t cry, Sasha,” Brock says, and it’s just like what he would tell her when they were both young, just two kids fighting to survive in a city that would chew them alive and spit them out the second it got the chance. “I’ll be here whenever you need.”

Sasha pulls him into another tight hug, and he wraps his arms around her back and squeezes hard enough to break a rib, if it hadn’t been the afterlife. They separate too soon.

“I’m coming back,” she promises, and Brock smiles at her and nods.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Cel takes Sasha’s hand again and they lead her back through the veil of mist, appearing back in the Artemisian plane. Sasha wipes surreptitiously at her eyes, and then turns to look at Cel. 

“Thank you,” she says, sincere, and pulls Cel into a brief hug. They pat her on the shoulder, a little awkward, before pulling away. 

“Just say the word, yeah?” they say, giving her a bit of a cheeky wink, and Sasha feels the corner of her mouth turn up a bit. It was a gift, one she isn’t sure she’d ever have gotten without Cel, and she pulls them into a quick hug before heading off.

—

Sasha spends most of her time in the Artemisian plane with Grizzop. It’s where she feels the most comfortable, anyway, having spent, well, most of her afterlife here. 

But everyone she loves is here. Everyone she cared about, everyone she wanted to be able to see again. The pool’s disappeared as well, now. Sasha’d gone looking for it once, curious about what she’d see now that everyone is here. She hadn’t been able to find it, and neither she nor Grizzop have felt the tell-tale tug in their sternums in a while. 

They saved the world a couple times over, Sasha thinks, as she looks at all of her friends sat around in a circle, telling stories from days long gone past. Zolf and Hamid laugh at a story Azu tells, and Sasha smiles along. She’d missed this one, but the way Azu tells it, she feels like she was there. Cel lounges as they look up at the sky, fire burning comfortably next to them. Grizzop polishes his longbow off to the side - he and Sasha have plans to go on another hunt soon, and he’s itching to get going.

Some stories still wait, hidden behind trauma and pain and regret, and some feelings are hidden too, locked up for years and waiting to burst out into the open. But it’s alright. They’re all together again, all happy and healthy and not fighting to save the world anymore. 

They have all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> i very intentionally didn’t include any npcs other than brock bc i feel bad including one and not the others (there was going to be a wilde bit and an einstein bit and then i thought ‘oh what about ed and hamid’s family and brock and azu’s family and feryn and vesseek and the rest’ and decided just brock bc sasha deserves that
> 
> also sorry if this has been done before? i haven’t read one but also i haven’t read every fic in the archive so /shrugs. also bertie is chilling over in the flaming poo dimension he doesn’t deserve nice things


End file.
